How To Lick Your Wounds
by Blatantly Queer
Summary: Fifteen years after his supposed death, the infamous Vergil Sparda drags himself out of purgatory. Battered and seriously wounded, there's only one person he needs to see, and apologize to. Devilcest, love/hate, comfort, man angst. M for future intimacy.
1. Chapter 1

Hell is hot. What many people fail to realize when they use the expression 'hot as hell', is the sheer heat of the place. It's an unbearable, blistering fire that licks at your flesh and burns wherever you let it touch.

It took me fifteen years to pull myself out of hell. Ten years to find a way out while withstanding torture. Four years to escape and reach the gate. One year to drag myself to the human world. The first thing I remember from the day I finally dragged myself to freedom was the feel of the air, fresh and cold on my skin. I remember only a blur of grey all around me, likely that of the city, and then darkness.

When I came to, I smelled alcohol and bleach- the clean smell of a hospital. I remember not being able to move or open my eyes and I panicked before blacking out again.

I spent a lot of time there drifting in and out of consciousness. I heard names being thrown around by officials trying to identify me, and the name "Dante" pierced through my senses. I knew that name. That name belonged to someone important. I had opened my mouth and tried to shout, whisper, grunt, say something, but nothing came out- just air. Before long I was out again.

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	2. Chapter Two - Dante

Years after the events at Mallet Island, life started to quiet down at Devil May Cry- or at least as quiet as it could be with pest control being my line of work. The amount of demons had begun to dwindle, leaving me with much more time on my hands. At first I enjoyed the free time, using it to spend more time in bars and in bed with women. But as time began to drag on and on with more and more time between jobs, my mind became more prone to wander.

Boredom is crippling because it gives you time to think. And sometimes thinking is the exact opposite thing you want to do. I hadn't seen my brother in fifteen years- as far as I was aware, that was how long he'd been dead for. And it was my fault. I had killed my own brother. So the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. And the worse I felt, the more I holed myself up in my office. I was like that for months, not doing much of anything, making stupid mistakes in combat and refusing even the easiest jobs. Trish and Lady were concerned, but I managed to keep them at bay with empty promises of a happier Dante.

I came home one day after my first job in weeks, overjoyed to be back in my laziest element. Not even a minute after I reclined in my chair, the phone rang. I groaned loudly and snatched the receiver.

"Devil May Cry."

"Hello, this is Jane calling from Limbo City Hospital, I'm looking to speak to a Miss Trish Doe...?" The voice on the other line was timid and quiet. I exhaled sharply from my nose. Trish had moved to her own place years ago.

"Can I ask why you're calling?"

"O-oh, yes. It's concerning a wounded individual that was brought to us today- we would like to request that she appear to identify the man in question. She was listed as an emergency contact for a Mr. Dante Sparda, whom we believe to be the John Doe." I squinted skeptically even though she couldn't see me.

"...Could you repeat that?"

The woman stammered and reiterated what she said before, but her words didn't quite reach my ears. There was a mysterious unidentified man at the hospital who someone thought was me. I had to go. I had to grab Trish and go.

"We'll be there in ten." I answered, and dropped the phone.

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	3. Chapter Three - Vergil

The next time I came to, I still couldn't see much of anything. There were mostly smears of color, everything too blurry to make out. There were more voices, clearer this time.

"The emergency contact is on the way here," a nurse confirmed.

"Good, I hope to god this isn't really Dante...looks a hell of a lot like him, though."

I furrowed my brows, and they hurt. Of course I wasn't Dante. I was Vergil. Dante was...

An idiot with a big grin, hair as white as paper, eyes as blue as ice. Loud, cocky, messy. Always in the way. Always a pain in the ass. Always an equal match in strength. Always confident. Always honest. Always there.

_Oh, _I thought. Dante was my brother.

"What a stupid thing to forget..." I said, not even realizing the words had left my mouth. The room was suddenly very quiet and I was overcome with coughing fit, my chest heaving and burning. I couldn't stop, and it hurt so much...

There was a short fuss, a prick of a needle at my arm, and I was asleep again.

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	4. Chapter Four - Dante

Not long after my brief phone call, I was on my way to the hospital with Trish on the back of my motorcycle.

"Slow down!" She shouted, and I ignored her. This was urgent and I wasn't going to take my time. The only thing I was concerned about was that there was a person at the hospital that someone was pretty convinced was me. And all I could think was that my brother could still be alive. I had dragged myself through months of grief and guilt and depression after defeating him as Nelo Angelo, thinking I had killed my own brother, thinking I had murdered the last bit of family I had left.

And now there was a shred of hope that he had survived.

Eventually, after a long painful stay in the waiting room, the nurse who had called me found and led us to the room where they were keeping the unidentified man.

"He does look a lot like you, sir. Perhaps he's a blood relative...?" The nurse suggested as she opened the door for us. I hesitated over the threshold as the smell of burnt flesh assaulted my nostrils. Grimacing, I entered the room with my hands thrust deep into my pockets. Looking back, I guess I was scared of what I would find. Trish followed and put a supportive hand on my back, giving a small rub between my shoulder blades. I inhaled sharply as the nurse pulled back the dividing curtain.

"Holy _shit_..." I breathed, my mouth falling open. The figure on the bed was terribly marred by burns and cuts, most of the back, chest, and legs that weren't wrapped in bandages were covered in various shades of scar tissue. Luckily, the face of the man wasn't damaged beyond recognition- besides several smaller burns and scrapes and a split lower lip, he was perfectly recognizable. And he shared his face with me.

We had all the same features, from the long sharp nose to the hard jawline and hollow cheeks, the thin white brows and fair complexion with bleach-white hair to match.

"Vergil," I said, moving to the side of the bed.

"So you know him? That's good, very good..." The nurse said, paging the doctor.

"Yeah, he's my brother..." I didn't know what to do. It wasn't a demon in disguise, of that much I was sure. But I hadn't forgotten that the last few times I saw my brother he was on a mission to kill me. "What happened...?" I said softly, not expecting an answer. Suddenly Vergil coughed and sucked in a rasping breath, eyes clenched tight from the pain. I jumped at the sudden reaction, hoping his pain wasn't my fault. "Vergil?!" I called, taking a knee next to the bed. "Bro, talk to me," I tried, and Vergil's breathing began to steady itself, although still working heavily. It took a few moments for Vergil to speak, first opening his mouth and trying to open his eyes, only making his white lashes flutter the slightest bit.

"B...Brother?" His voice was quiet and rough, as if he had screamed himself raw. He swallowed hard and breathed through his mouth. My brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah, it's me, Verge...you're safe, okay?" I was scared and confused and angry at him, but he was my brother, and he was hurt. I wanted to punch him in the mouth, but I also wanted to protect him with my life. He was all I had left.

"The homeless man who found him said that he saw him crawl out of a crack in the ground, surrounded by smoke and the smell of sulfur." Dante stood and turned on his heel, looking at the doctor who stood just inside the door.

"John," I said. I recognized him, he was the only doctor to ever work on me and Trish when we were wounded badly enough to warrant a visit. He was a plain, fit man, maybe somewhere in his thirties, with short dark hair and equally dark eyes. He closed the door behind him.

"You said he was your brother, Dante?" he asked. I nodded. "Well, he's a tough son of a bitch, I'll tell you that." He looked at the chart in his hand, flipping a paper back. "I have to tell you that I was scared we were going to loose you- your brother, rather- but all of a sudden his blood began to clot and the bleeding stopped, and his burns started to cool... He's stabilized significantly." I nodded in response, not having the mind to find words.

"So, basically, Vergil- who we all thought was dead for about fifteen years- just pulled himself out of hell?" Trish spoke up from the side of the room. I sighed loudly.

"I...I guess so." I ran a hand through my hair, letting the white locks fall back in front of my eyes. "How the hell did he manage that?"

Vergil suddenly began to cough in response, blood misting across his lips. Trish pulled a chair over and handed it to me, so I took it and sat next to the bed. I reached for one of his hands, hoping to offer some form of comfort. I stopped when I actually saw his hands. They were burned to hell, and he didn't even have fingernails anymore. It was hard to see that the charred form had even been a hand. The nurse moved in then, taking my brother's hand and beginning to treat it with burn cream and bandages- hoping to help the healing process.

"Here," I said, holding a hand out for the cream and bandages, and she dropped some into my hand. I started on the hand closest to me. After a few minutes of rubbing the cream into his burnt skin, Vergil began to stir. He shifted about slightly, trying to stretch, and his eyelids twitched as they tried to open. "...Vergil?" I tried, and his eyes opened just enough. His eyes were bloodshot, contrasting against the pale blue irises that matched mine. He turned his head slightly to look at me, and I could see his eyes focusing.

"Dante," he forced out, just above a whisper.

"Yeah, man. How do you feel?" I asked, but he didn't seem to hear me. A small grin tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"I bet you wish I was better at dying, huh...?" He looked like he wanted to laugh. I was pretty mad.

"You ass, if you weren't so effed up I would wail on you right here and now-" he stopped himself, narrowing his eyes at his brother. Vergil smiled and closed his eyes, turning his face back to the pillow and falling back asleep.

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**Please R&R, your feedback is really important to me as a growing writer! Thank you.**


	5. Chapter Five - Vergil

I remembered everything. I remembered and it hurt like hell. I remembered us on top of that damned tower, battling like arch-enemies and quipping at each other like children. I was stupid, but I thought I was so damn smart. I could have had all of the power of my father, but what was that worth? Killing my brother, who had been my best friend until age six? Why did I want it so badly?

Thinking about it then, I didn't know why. Maybe I was mad at him, at myself for not being strong enough. When our parents died I wanted to blame someone, anyone. I convinced myself when I grew older that I could have saved our mother. Then, as I laid in the quiet, calm darkness as my body built itself back up, I knew that I couldn't have done anything to prevent her death.

After falling into the demon world, I didn't spend much time thinking about what had happened just moments before the fall. When Dante rushed at me as I fell, reaching a hand out to grab me by the coat, and I sliced across the palm of his hand to stop him. I had nearly killed him, and him me. And yet he still didn't want me to die. The look on his face was genuine concern, and fear.

After failing in defeating Mundus in the demon world and being brainwashed by him, I was turned into his puppet. Nelo Angelo. And I attacked Dante again on Mallet Island, with the intent to kill. But I didn't do it. Because he is my brother, and as much as I denied it, I cared about him and his stupid hair and his stupid grin and his stupid head. And that somehow was strong enough to break the hold Mundus had on my brain. So I let him win. I let him kill me. But he didn't so much kill me as he shattered the chain of slavery that Mundus had on me, and sent me back to him as a driveling mess.

Then I was imprisoned for betraying him. I was a puppet- I wasn't supposed to have human emotion. Then there was the torture. It was unbearable. Whips, branding irons, knives, rape. I never talked about it. Mostly just pretended that it all never happened.

I escaped after ten years. Someone on the inside must have sympathized with me and set me free, because one day I woke up and I was being carried. As soon as the person carrying me saw that I was awake, he put me down and said "_Run. _Find a gate, get to the human world. Find your brother. _Go._"

And I did.

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**Edit: I dont want to seem like some groveling jerk, but id really appreciate a review or a PM! You guys need to let me know if this story is actually good! If not, then I might start a different one that might be better. **


	6. Chapter Six - Dante

Vergil was in the hospital for a couple days before he was lucid enough to talk to. I didn't leave the building once which might have seemed a bit obsessive, but I was worried as hell. And watching Vergil heal from day to day was actually the most interesting shit I had ever seen.

I was still there on the third day of Vergil's stay, and around six in the evening I was down in the cafeteria getting myself dinner. I had made the acquaintance of the blue-haired lunch ladies there, letting them fuss over how young I was and how I didn't belong hanging around a hospital all day and night. I would tell them that it was just something I had to do, and they would slip me some extra food at the door.

When I returned to the room that night with my tray of food, Vergil was awake and sitting up in the bed. His eyes were on me when I entered the room.

"Hey," I said softly, closing the door behind me. "Good to see you awake." I pulled up a chair and set my tray on the side table. "You've been gone a pretty long time, huh? How long has it been, fifteen years?" Vergil looked away, guilt creeping onto his face. It was a strange sight. "...what the hell happened, Verge?" I sat down, leaning my arms on my knees. Vergil opened his mouth to say something, but instead was overcome by another coughing fit. I looked around and grabbed a cup, thrusting it into his hands and thumping him hard on the back. After a moment or so he stilled and violently spat a hunk of something hard and black into the cup. He sat back, putting one of his bandaged hands to his forehead.

"Christ..." He breathed. "I spent years sucking smoke into my lungs, I guess it's all coming out now..." He glanced to me, catching my sharp stare.

"Start talking, bro."


	7. Chapter Seven - Vergil

My lungs burned in protest, but I opened my mouth anyway. "Water?" I asked. Dante made a soft noise in his throat and glanced around, then went to the sink and filled a cup with cold water. I tried to take it in my hands, but they were bandaged into mittens. Instead Dante brought the cup to my lips and helped me drink, steadying the back of my head with his other hand. I drank all of the water in the cup, and Dante took it from me, holding it. I grunted loudly in approval, the feel of the water for a moment making me glad to be alive. Dante studied me closely for a moment, his left hand still at the base of my skull in my sooty hair. After a few moments of staring Dante snapped out of his trance and sat back down on a chair, this time on the opposite side.

I cleared my throat. "When you defeated me on Mallet Island, I didn't die."

"No, really?" I glared at him, the smartass.

"I'm sure that's what you thought. I'm right, aren't I?" I snapped. Dante glanced away. I cleared my thread again and continued. "I didn't die, but the chain of slavery that tied me to Mundus snapped and I was released." I heard Dante exhale in relief.

"So I did something right for once," he said, a smirk tugging at his mouth. I smirked back.

"Astounding, isn't it?" I started to pick at my bandages, trying to unravel the ones around my hands. Dante took the one closest to him and started unwrapping it for me. I sighed softly, feeling the air rasp its way out of my lungs. "I was imprisoned for my betrayal and subjected to torture."

"Torture?" Dante's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"Yes. I escaped somehow. Someone freed me and told me to find a gate and climb to the human world." He watched as Dante removed the bandage, letting it fall away. I gently flexed my stiff fingers- they didn't look bad.

"It's looking much better," he commented. "You should have seen your hands before- they didn't even look like hands."

"He told me to find you," I said quickly, the words forcing themselves out of my mouth. Dante looked up, meeting my eyes with a confused stare. "The person who freed me." The moment after I said that I regretted it. I could have kept that bit to myself, but it came out of my mouth anyway. Minutes ticked away in silence as Dante unwrapped the other hand. When it was free, I flexed those fingers as well.

"Dante," I said. He met my eyes. "Thank you."

He smiled. "No problem."


	8. Chapter Eight - Dante

Vergil stayed in the hospital for a few more days until his wounds had healed enough for him to be discharged. It went without saying that my brother would be coming home with me. I certainly didn't trust him by himself.

It was a Sunday when he was discharged, and I insisted that he sit his ass down in a wheelchair since he was still too weak to stand on his own. I eventually managed to get him to sit still so I could wheel him to the door.

"This is humiliating," he groaned and I ignored him as I wheeled him out the door and towards the car. I prided myself on my cherry red Chevy Nova, and upon seeing it there, I searched Vergil for some sort of reaction, but there was none. He seemed to be lost in thought. Trish had come to swap the motorcycle for my car, and I was grateful she didn't stick around. Vergil didn't need that kind of stress.

After some awkward wrestling to get Vergil into the passenger seat, I headed for home. The drive was quiet, and Vergil spent it staring out the window.

Upon arriving at Devil May Cry, Vergil begrudgingly allowed me to pick him up and carry him to the door of the shop.

"Is this really necessary?" He groaned as I opened the door with my foot and whisked him in across the threshold.

"Absolutely. I'm taking you right upstairs and you're having a bath, you smell like week-old road kill."

"You spend a year pulling yourself out of hell, then we'll see who smells like roses." I laughed at him and started up the stairs. He was a lot lighter than I expected, but I wasn't complaining- it made my job easier. "Can you please put me down and just help me walk, like a normal person?" He groaned, fidgeting against me. I could tell he was uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"Are you kidding? It would take an hour just to get you up these stairs. Shut up and put your honor aside for a second." I could hear him groan and give up, leaning his head against me and gritting his teeth from the pain of movement. I felt almost guilty, like I was the cause of his pain.

When we reached my room I set him down on the bed, still wrapped up in his hospital gown. I left him for a moment to start the bath in the attached bathroom, and returned to see him sitting up and hopelessly running his hands through his hair. His face was clenched with pain at just that small movement, and I felt awful. I had never seen him in so much pain.

"Come on," I said, coming closer and starting to undo the hospital gown.

"What are you-"

"You can't exactly take a bath with clothes on, can you?" I said, trying to ignore his fussing.

"I can take care of myself!" He protested, and I rolled my eyes.

"You can't even stand on your own- stop being such a bitch! It's not like you have anything I've never seen before!" He stopped fussing and I pulled the gown out and away from him. He covered himself in his arms and looked away. His body was still burned and scarred, and some of them didn't look like they would go away. I leaned in, looking at one particularly deep gash on Vergil's chest.

"They put holy water in some of them," he said softly, watching my finger trace the wound.

"Those fuckers..." I grunted, then sighed and started to pick him up. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder to make my job easier and sighed, letting me carry him. "You'll feel better after you're clean, I promise," I said, and entered the bathroom. The tub was almost filled when I entered, so I started lowering Vergil into the water. It was awkward and painful as I bent down to actually get him into the tub, but after some slipping and eventually dropping him the rest of the way in the awkwardness was over. Well, not completely. He hissed in pain as he slumped into the water. "Fuck, sorry," I apologized, and turned off the faucet. Vergil leaned forward and sighed, bringing some water up to his face. The water was already turning sooty and grey from the grime of his skin, but that wasn't what grabbed my attention- there was a large 'M' in demonic script carved into his back.

"Holy shit..."


	9. Chapter Nine - Vergil

I sighed softly upon realizing what my brother was swearing at. "Mundus ensured that he left his mark on me... It still burns from time to time," I said softly, pouring water from cupped hands up over my shoulders and down my arms. Simple gestures were difficult enough with my joints being as stiff as they were, choked up by scar tissue that hadn't become supple quite yet.

"Fucking bastard," he grunted, and I smirked, but didn't dare let him see, though he likely felt it judging by the soft laugh that escaped his mouth. I heard soft sloshing from behind me, and then Dante was rubbing away at my back with a soapy washcloth, gentle as to not hurt me but vigorous enough to remove the dirt, filth, and dead flesh that clung so determinedly to my wounds.

He cleaned me with a sort of careful determination, as if I was made of glass and he needed to prevent further harm. Though I honestly believed that I deserved all of the pain in the world after all I'd put my brother through. My pride ripped our brotherhood apart where our separation hadn't- my time as Nelo Angelo taught me that.

Dante rinsed the soap from my back and then his hands found my hair. "Close your eyes," he requested, and I obeyed, sitting up a bit straighter and hanging my head back just a bit. He scrubbed at my scalp and I was so incredibly grateful. A wise woman once told me that one of the greatest joys in the world is having your hair brushed or cleaned for you, and the last time someone helped me take care of my hair I was still reading Golden Books. I sighed softly and I could feel Dante smile. He scrubbed away until I appeared to be clean, then swished his hands in the water to banish the soap. "Can you rinse your hair? I don't have a bucket around here..." he said, and I slipped down into the warm water without another word, submerging my hair in the soapy broth. I tried to raise my hands to my head and they trembled, so Dante reached in and shook my hair in the water with his fingers.

For a moment I listened to the water sloshing in my ears, and opened my eyes to see Dante gazing down at me, smiling.

"Earth to broseph, will you be surfacing soon?" he snipped, and I sighed, though out of contentment as opposed to contempt. I raised myself out of the water enough so I could rest my head and shoulders against the porcelain. I gazed back at my twin, who smiled down at me. "Feeling better?" he asked, and I let a small smile break across my face.

"Much," I confessed, and closed my eyes. Dante started shifting, as if we was going to leave. "Dante," I called. I wanted him to stay- I'm not sure why, but I feared being alone.

"Yeah?" He answered, stilling. I opened my eyes and looked back at him, capturing his image upside-down.

"I want to say...that I'm sorry. For everything I've done. For the fighting and...the coldness. And the leaving," my voice quickly lost its conviction as I spoke. I let my eyes close. When I opened them, it was because a pair of arms found themselves resting on my chest and a face was peering down over me, smiling.

"It's cool," he said softly, looking happy and sad at the same time. I wanted to punch that sad out of him but something told me that might have had the opposite effect. So instead I reached up a hand and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down to me and pressing him into a kiss. His hair tickled my throat as it hung down, a white curtain about our faces. I didn't know what I was doing, but it seemed right. There were sparks, like in those clichéd young adult romances, but these were actually real. I could feel his energy sparking through his mouth and into mine, and I didn't want to let go, but someone did. Dante pulled away, his face painted with surprise. He looked like someone had slapped him.

"You shocked me," he said, and smirked. I smirked back.

"_You_ shocked me."

Suddenly there was a voice downstairs, calling out to Dante. I closed my eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. It ruined the moment. Dante shot to his feet, suddenly flustered.

"You can...finish up, right? I'll be right back," he rushed, and left the room, closing the door behind him. I groaned once I was sure he was out of earshot and sank down into the water. There was an uncomfortably familiar tightness in my loins, but I paid it no heed. I rose a finger to my mouth, running a digit across my lower lip. The action of kissing one's brother should have been one that was strange, uncomfortable, unnatural. So why did it feel like something completely normal? Natural, second nature, even?

_Well_, I thought to myself. _We are demons, after all._


	10. Chapter Ten - Trish

I was created by Mundus as a trap for the sons of Sparda. First for Vergil, I was created as a mother to lure him. Then I was repurposed to lure Dante to Mallet Island. I was given maternal instincts, or at least the innate need to nurture and love the boys. The need to nurture Vergil was precedent when I met him, and when I met Dante those instincts carried over. When I got my freedom, there was nothing I wanted to do more than take care of Dante. So I moved in with him at Devil May Cry and helped out in anyway I could. Cooking, cleaning, finding jobs. I did things for him even when he ordered me not to. I couldn't help it, and eventually he understood.

I witnessed first hand what it did to Dante when he lost his brother, for real. He wasn't the same man I had met. He was wounded and broken, and missed his brother dearly. It was hard to see. It wasn't until he started getting better that I moved out. It was mostly Lady's idea, suggesting that he needed space- and that the face of his mother _acting_ like his mother probably wasn't helping.

So one can understand my concern when I got a frantic call from Dante claiming that his fifteen-year-dead brother could still be alive and at a hospital in critical condition.

I was worried of what we would find. I told myself that it was probably a bunch of demons laying a trap for us, but when we got there I could tell that my assumption couldn't have even further from the truth. Vergil was alive, and he looked like shit. I wanted to comb his hair for him and cook him a meal. Not only was he wounded but he looked noticeably smaller than Dante.

I continued being worried when I heard that Dante planned on taking his psychopath of a brother home with him.

"He's my brother, do you think I'd just abandon him? Look at him, he's docile as a kitten," he said and gestured to his comatose brother.

"He's in a blood loss coma, of course he's docile," I sneered. "At least let me help." He looked at me with his narrow blue eyes and sighed, averting them.

"Fine. Do me a favor and swap my bike for my car, then meet me at the shop later on. I'd rather have you guys meet again when he's feeling...cleaner. Maybe he won't be as defensive."

"Sure," I said, and grinned. I leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm just glad I can help."


End file.
